Brain Power
by StopwatchNegatives
Summary: For most who cross paths with the man called Sylar, the ending is grim, bloody, and deadly. When I met him, an unstoppable force created. I guess you could say it was grim, bloody, and deadly, too. Rated M in case. Sylar/Female-OC
1. Caffeine and Bad Intentions

**A/N: Hey guys! This is my first attempt at Fan Fiction, but I write regular original stories too, so please don't just click off because you think I'm inexperienced haha.**

**So I'm re-watching Heroes, and I don't really remember much of it, so I'm working off of Season One right now. I guess I'll move the story along accordingly, as far as powers go, I don't know at this point, this might just end up being a completely different timeline from the actual show. We'll see I guess. :D**

**INTRODUCTION**

For most who cross paths with the man called Sylar, the ending is grim, bloody, and deadly. When I met him, an allegiance was formed, an unstoppable force created. I guess you could say it was grim, bloody, and deadly, too. The things we would do, the people we'd kill together, and the powers we'd gorge ourselves on, this would be my future, and it was all exactly what I wanted. For Sylar, I'd do anything. I could only hope he felt the same.

**CHAPTER ONE: Caffeine and Bad Intentions**

I was walking the streets of New York, in a hurry to get back to my apartment and out of the cold air. I pulled my grey jacket closer to myself, and lifted the collar up higher over my neck. Thoughts of curling up in my nice fluffy blanket with some coffee ran through my head as I walked, my pace quickening. I was already picking out the movie I'd queue up on my Netflix and mentally searching my cabinets for sweets.

It was getting late, around the time when the crazies come out to party, so I didn't notice anything odd about him at first. He had his head down, a baseball cap shadowing his face. He rushed out of an office building and pushed his way passed the people between us. An old man ran out of the doorway he had just left, a gun in his hand. He panted, out of breath and waved the gun rapidly. I looked for the baseball cap that should have been right next to me by then. The gun-toting geezer had me so nervous I wasn't cold anymore, but goosebumps made their way across my arms under my jacket. I made a b-line for the nearest store, a coffee shop, and slammed through the doorway. And there he was.

He sat at a table in the corner, behind a menu he looked like he was sitting there all along. I, however, stood stunned in the doorway. One last look out the window for the gunman and I walked as casually as I could manage towards the beverage and ice-cream counter. A peppy girl in the cafe's orange and yellow striped uniform saw me and plastered a huge smile on her face.

"What can I get you?" she said in a sing-song voice.

"A uuum-," I had no idea.

I looked up at the menu board, stealing a glance at the mysterious stranger across the room. I ended up ordering an overpriced cup of coffee whose name I couldn't remember a second after I said it. It didn't matter much, it was delicious and having a coffee in my hand gave me a more legitimate reason for being in the coffee shop rather than just hiding from a crazy old guy who may or may not be still out there. If any shots were fired, I was _not_ going to be one of those helpless bystanders that you read about in the paper, '_Shots fired: 5 dead, teen injured_' Yeah, no thanks. Not how I wanted to end up a headline.

I sat down at a table facing the man. I didn't know why I felt drawn to him. I pulled my memo pad out of my jacket pocket to read over some notes from my Russian class, but I couldn't focus on the words with him in the room. I sipped my coffee and resisted the urge to look up.

He stood over me, and cleared his throat. I should have known, my intuition is usually pretty accurate. The urge to look over my shoulder had been so great, but I stifled it so as not to seem paranoid.

"Hello." He said politely, nothing scary about him now, but I still had that strange tugging in my chest, telling me he was dangerous. Usually, I would listen to that feeling, but instead I looked up at him, and smiled shyly.

"Hey there." I answered. He pulled off the baseball cap, revealing his short dark hair, and letting his amber eyes gleam in the overhead lights.

"You mind some company?" He gestured the the seat across from me and I shook my head, again ignoring my inner self who was running around in circles yelling at me to listen to it.

He sat down and I closed my memo pad, "What's your name?" I asked, tucking the notebook back into my pocket.

"Sylar" was his response, and a grin swept across his face, "and yours?"

"Memphis."

"Interesting name."

"I could say the same about yours. I've never met anyone named Sylar, but my grandfather had this old broken watch when I was a kid, had the name on it." I said, immediately regretting it. I was never very good at making conversation with new people. Honestly, like this guy cared about a watch.

"It's so sad isn't it? How people don't wear watches anymore." he was twisting the lid of the sugar dispenser on and off as he spoke. "There's something I never thought would go out of use." He chuckled. "Replaced by cellphones, such a shame."

I found myself transfixed by his hands turning the lid left and right, and my mind wandered. _Why is he humoring me? And what was his purpose in talking to me anyhow? People in New York aren't usually this friendly. He must be from out of town or something._ And again my mind was telling me to make up an excuse to leave, but I wanted to stay. I wanted to talk more with this man who actually seemed smart, and attractive—_very_ attractive—and maybe even interested?

But then I looked back up at him, and his eyes were darting from window to window. _Right, that man was after him. I see, he was just using me so he'd look more natural if the guy came this way._

And then it hit me, why I felt attracted to this man earlier, why I didn't leave when my senses told me to. _He has a power._ _No, more than one. _I couldn't believe I hadn't picked up on them earlier, usually I notice right away.

He saw the realization in my eyes, although he didn't know _what_ I had realized until I asked him.

"So what is it? What do you do?"

His face fell into a question, and I could see his guard go up. He kept his composure pretty well, though, and played off the question.

"Oh, I'm kind of... between jobs right now. What do you do?"

"I think you know that's not what I was asking. But fine, if you want to keep it a secret, I can leave."

I grabbed my empty coffee cup and started to stand up.

"How did you know? Is that..." he looked up at me knowingly, "...your ability?" His eyes changed, got wild, hungry. His smile put me on edge, and my flight instincts keyed up again.

"Yeah, well it's one of them. But I feel that you have more than one as well. So do you absorb powers, too? I wasn't aware there were others like me." I couldn't hide my excitement.

"You could say that. When you say 'absorb', how exactly do you do that?"

As I sit back down, he pushed the sugar dispenser back to its original location, using telekinesis. My eyes widened, I hadn't seen that ability before.

"Bet that one's useful." I looked up to make sure we could have a private conversation, and satisfied, I explained it to him in a hushed tone.

"So, stop me if this sounds familiar, 'kay?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a charming half-smile. He knew it wouldn't be the same as how he gets his abilities. He knew I wasn't going around unscrewing peoples skulls left and right. My power intrigued him, and he wanted it. I had become an unexpected bonus to his impromptu hideout.

"It all started when I met this guy about a year ago. He was this huge history buff, knew everything about the past, it was freaky. I liked him at the time, even though he was kind of an asshole, but that part doesn't matter right now. So after we had been dating for a little while, I started knowing things about history. I thought maybe I had just picked them up from our conversations, but some of them were so obscure I knew he had never brought them up."

"So your boyfriend had a power?"

"Yeah, like the least useful one I've ever come across. The power to know history." I rolled my eyes. "It had passed on to me. We didn't know until the second power I picked up that he even had an ability. He just thought he was some genius, a child prodigy or something."

Sylar leaned forward, waiting for me to tell him how my power worked.

"So later I came into contact with another power, this elderly woman who lived across the hall. She fell on the steps, and I heard her calling for help. I sat with her, stroking her hair to comfort her while we waited for the ambulance I called for. Her power—the power to detect powers—passed on to me as well. If I touch a person with one of these abilities for over a minute, I get the ability too. It's really weird, but I haven't found very many other people with powers. Most don't want to talk about their abilities, so I don't have any friends with them. My ex thought I was crazy when I told him his knowledge of history was a superpower. I guess that was kind of expected though."

Sylar watched my face intently. "That is not at all how I get mine."

"How do you then?"

"I think it would be better if I... showed you."

He slipped the baseball cap back over his hair, pulling it down in his usual fashion to conceal his face in shadows. He stood and held out his hand. I hesitated. His eyes were wild again, animalistic. It made me uneasy, but I wanted a friend I could talk to about superpowers without sounding like a nut. I took his hand and he led me out the door.


	2. Show and Telekinesis

CHAPTER TWO: Show and Tel(ekinesis)

As we were walking through the city, away from the office building where I first saw him, I began to question my decision to follow Sylar.

"So how are you going to show me how you do it, unless we find someone else with an ability?"

"I was hoping I could try and take a couple of yours, if that is alright." He kept his face turned straight forward, and I mistook the smile in his voice for one of friendliness.

"I guess... that would be easier than searching for someone else."

We didn't walk far before we reached his building. I stopped in front of his door, something wasn't right. He noticed how I tensed, and turned to face me.

"Do you live alone?" I asked.

"Yes..." he responded, glancing from my face to the door. "Why?"

"Someone's in there. Someone like us."

He used his telekinesis to throw the door open, and we stepped inside to see two burglars lifting a television. They dropped it and started running. I jumped towards the faster one, pinning him to the ground as Sylar froze the other's feet to the ground.

"They're just burglars?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Yeah, go ahead and kill that lowlife if you want. This is the one with the power." I said, waiting to feel the new ability wash over me. Only a few more seconds.

The man struggled beneath me, but I was determined to keep him from running away. There.

"Lock-picking. Figures." I look over my shoulder at Sylar, who had now frozen the burglar completely through. He walked over to me.

"Now, let me show you how _I_ do it." he said, a menacing smile on his face. I stood, and he pinned the squirming man down with one hand while the other drew a bloody line across the man's forehead. I looked away and covered my ears from the screams.


	3. The Way It Works

**CHAPTER THREE: The Way It Works**

"How... did you figure out... that you could do that?"

"I guess I just have a talent for seeing how things... work. I found a telekinetic, and took his power for my own."

I gave him a look, understanding creeping over me.

"And you're thinking if you took mine..."

He flicked his wrist, telekinesis throwing me against the wall. My arms were pinned against the plaster molding across the ceiling. A strange mixture of surprise and knowing it was to be expected washed over me. He wasn't the kind of guy who just chatted you up in a caf, he was the kind that sensed something he wanted and went after it. He wanted my powers. The grin on his face and the greed in his eyes told me this as he walked towards me slowly, savoring the moment.

"Now I wonder... how will _yours_ feel?" He growled.

"Let me go Sylar!"

"Now Memphis, why would I do that? You have something I want, something I... deserve. You know what I have to do."

"Wait!"

He was in front of me then, lifting a finger towards my face.

"It might not work Sylar! How do you know you'll get _all_ of my powers?"

He stopped and lowered his hand. An inquisitive gleam in his eyes told me there was some chance to save myself.

"Explain. No funny business. One movement and your head comes off."

I paused for a moment, thinking frantically to save my life.

"I mean, if you take my brain, you might only get my original one, which is pretty much what you do already, just less messy. I can lead you to those people I got mine from." I grasp for more incentive, something that would hold up more to his goals, whatever they were. "We can team up and be all the more powerful _together_! And I have one power you can never have if it wouldn't transfer, and I know it's the very one you're after the most."

His eyes shot to mine in a glare.

"The old lady died. Before the ambulance got there, I'm the only one who can tell you who has these abilities, there's nowhere else to get it. How can you risk losing it forever?"

He threw a chair across the room, and walked into the next room to think, leaving me pinned to the wall awaiting either execution or redemption. I let out a sigh. It was a far cry that he would believe me, I wasn't sure if what I was saying was true, but it seemed to strike something with his reasoning.

I heard him mumbling in the next room, thinking things over. Whether to let me live or die. My heart raced, and I found myself holding my breath I was so nervous.


	4. Confrontation?

**A/N: Hey readers! Sorry for the wait on this chapter, busy with the holidays and such lately. (But that's no excuse to miss FanFiction now is it? Hehe) Hope you enjoy, and hopefully I can get things moving a little faster soon, in the story, and in getting chapters out!**

**And thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! That's what keeps me writing~ I'll try and take all of your advice, and not gloss anything over too much in the future!**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: Confrontation?**

It seemed like he was taking forever. Tears were streaming down my face now, despite my efforts to contain them. I didn't want Sylar to see me weak right when he was deciding if I could be valuable or not. Not at the moment my life was in his hands.

The bedroom door flew open, and he stood in the door frame, his finger held up in front of his face. To my relief it was more of a stance of thought than holding up the finger in a threat. His eyes finally rose to mine. My breath was trapped in my lungs, aching, if he didn't say something soon I'd suffocate of my own doing here and now.

"Alright." He said in a quiet but decided voice. "I'll let you live for now."

My body relaxed, the gust of the breath I was holding released, but the tension in the room was not so quick to vanish.

"But know... at any moment, on my decision, you are dead."

I frantically nodded my head, looking up at my arms still pinned to the wall. The restraining feeling was receding, his hold loosening. I suddenly found myself in a heap on the floor. He was still watching me, thoughts running through his face, visible in his eyes.

Uncomfortable in his gaze I pulled my jacket closer to my body.

"Now, show me why I need the both of us."

My eyes widened, _what the hell does he mean by that?_

"Let's start with this... historian of yours. Lead me to him, you can show me your worth in that battle. He should be pretty easy, if his power is any notion. So you can disable him for me, won't you?" He lifted his hand to scratch his slightly scruffy chin, right where it meets his neck. "But don't kill him. That's my job." He said, a grin spreading across his face.

I was shaking as I said, meekly, "Of course."

I took in his expression, studying it, his sick, sadistic face. I found myself wondering how I could ever have found him attractive in the café earlier... and on the street... and even leading right up to his door. Then my eyes drifted lower to his shoulder blades, to those perfectly sculpted muscles running across his arms, taking in the snug fit of his white long sleeve thermal tee. _Oh yeah. Now I remember._

He lifted his arms in an impatient motion, his eyebrow raised slightly.

"Are we going?" he asked, "Or have you changed your mind?"

On that note, lightning came from his palm, sizzling in a tight blue sphere that was sending tiny sparks falling harmlessly to the soft plush carpet. With a flick of his wrist those tiny sparks would intensify into a surge of white electric heat that could fry my skin on contact.

I hopped to my feet, his threats the only motivation I needed.

"Do you have a car?" I asked.

"I have the equivalent, just tell me where he is."

I tilted my head, wondering what the hell he was talking about. He was so confusing sometimes, it was aggravating me.

"Now!" he urged, not gently at all. I wasn't about to make him angrier than I could prevent. I told him the address, an apartment building on the other side of town, 6th floor.

He grabbed me and before I realized what he was doing he had thrown the window wide open and was flinging us both out into the winter air. I realized we were flying and stifled my rising screams. Clinging to him, I buried my face in his chest to keep from looking down at the buildings and cars below. We were high enough to appear to anyone on ground level as a bird. Which was pretty damn high.

It didn't take long before my feet found a solid surface again. I open my eyes to take in a familiar balcony. This was that bastard Greg's apartment. The one who didn't believe in powers, who was always such an ass to me. I found myself smiling, imagining the revenge I would finally get on him. Sylar looked down at me, impressed.

"I'll wait here, just know I'm watching." He crossed his arms and leaned against the railing. "Show me what you've got."


	5. She's Got a History with the Historian 1

CHAPTER FIVE: She's Got a History with the Historian

"Greg!" Memphis called out, ready to confront the man who had started the more... hellish chapter of her life, the man who had led her and her peers to believe she was a lunatic. She surprised herself in that she felt absolutely no remorse for what she was sure was about to happen to the historian.

Greg was, of course, home. He was standing at his counter in the small kitchen-dining area of his apartment, stirring some hot liquid in a mug, probably tea.

He was startled by her sudden appearance and the mug rattled as he spilled the amber contents in a pool on the counter. He grabbed absentmindedly for a rag to mop up the mess.

"Wha-what are you doing here, Em?"

"It's Memphis, not Em. Don't call me that." she snapped automatically.

"Sorry, old habit. How did you...?"

"Oh, get in your apartment you mean? Yeah, fancy little trick that." Memphis gestured over her shoulder to Sylar's resting place on the balcony. He gestured to the Historian in a sarcastic sort of wave.

"Don't mind me." He grunted, crossing his legs in front of him as he leaned against the railing.

Memphis grew in anticipation, she was desperate to impress Sylar and the look in her eyes was increasing in menace, a crazed frantic glare as she turned back to face Greg.

"You still haven't told me why you're here, _Memphis_." Greg strained the word, used to calling her by the old nickname.

She rolled her eyes and yawned.

"Alright, I'll get right to it. Basically, my friend here wants your ability. And I want to rip you limb from limb. I mean, don't take it personally or anything, but you're a real asshole you know that?" She said it all so casually, something she learned could be even more intimidating than yelling, the extreme calm was enough to drive someone insane.

It appeared to be working.

Greg's gaze was ripped from Memphis' face, to dart from her friend to her to the exit in a dizzying kaleidoscope of images. Fear was taking over.

Memphis stepped forward, just one step, and held his chin, forcing his eyes to stay on hers.

"Personally, I wanna hear you scream at my own hands, you know, while you still can. Because once he's done with you..." a chilling smile crosses her face, and she's even scaring herself at this point, "...there won't be anymore of your chitchat."

She slapped him across the face, sending his head to knock hard against the refrigerator. He pulled himself up, a trail of blood leaking from his brunette locks.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, looking for a weapon.

"You could say I held a bit of a grudge." She shrugged comically. "You embarrassed me. You made everyone believe I'd gone off the deep, which... maybe I have now, but that's another matter."

She let go of where she had been gripping the collar of his shirt and straightened up to a standing position.

"You know I hadn't planned on torturing you at all really. Just... seeing you again makes me feel all... warm and fuzzies you know? But I suppose this'll be good practice, too."

She kicks him in the torso, both grunt from exertion.

"You do at least know about your power, don't you?" She huffed, kneeling back down beside him.

His wheezing was pretty bad by now, but the asshole still had that look of pompous superiority she knew and hated.

He lunged forward, Memphis ducked to the floor as he dove towards the floor lamp in the connected living area.

As Memphis twisted around to chase him, he whacked her in the shoulder with the lamp, holding it like a Shaolin Spade.

"So you do."

"Aye."

"Who the fuck says Aye?" Memphis shook her head in frustration and dove for his legs. Greg dodged clumsily.

This was the most awkward fight Sylar had seen in his life. He chuckled in embarrassment for them both.


End file.
